


it's so sweet, knowing that you love me

by apple_solutely



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier tag, Eddie is a little bit of an attention whore, Eddie loves richie and is VERY loud about it, Established Relationship, Fluff, Food is intimate alright?, I basically recycle the, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Richie is clingy but Eddie is just as much!!, This is Not a valentines day fic but it Could Be, and golden retriever richie, because that's my brand baby, no i'm not projecting don't look at me, office fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29459463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_solutely/pseuds/apple_solutely
Summary: Richie finally takes up Eddie's offer to come visit him at work and discovers just how much he's loved.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 24
Kudos: 132





	it's so sweet, knowing that you love me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!! This could've easily been a valentines day fic but I decided I'm going to break against the norms instead :)
> 
> I have mixed feelings about this one but I'm still posting it since it's cute at some points. Title is taken from the song Sweet by Cigarettes After Sex and the fic is based off [this thread](https://twitter.com/kaspbrave/status/1354905849198567426) my friend tweeted a while ago. The idea physically made me vibrate out of my skin so I told them I just HAD to write it!!
> 
> Thank you to my friends who either read over this and motivated me, big hugs and kisses!! And last but not least, this one is for Cangijo because she's one of the nicest people I met on here and I adore you for supporting me <3

Richie very much likes the idea of surprises but even he can admit that it only limits to the fun kind. The type of fun surprise where he dawdles on over to Eddie’s office to give him an extra sandwich just because he was feeling extra generous and sappy and goddammit— _needy_.

Forget the humiliating idea that they’d only seen each other a few hours ago in the morning when Richie made him a scrumptious omelette to die for. He had it presented on the table before Eddie shuffled in with a yawn, tying a tie around his neck and smiling gently into a sweet kiss that Richie felt was simply _not_ _enough_. A couple of more kisses were shared between breakfast and a thousand more when they parted at the door, and then Richie had harrumphed, all alone in his house. With plenty of shit to do! And yet. He moped. He stared out the window to see Eddie wave up at him. And he moped some more as he slouched at his desk, open notebook awaiting and his assistant, Monica’s instructions to come up with a sketch drilled to the forefront of his brain. 

And so he really couldn’t be blamed if his mind automatically wanders back to the time Eddie had casually mentioned he could visit work any time he wanted. In fact, Eddie wiggles that invitation into every conversation every couple of days as if he’s secretly wishing Richie might just take up the offer. As if the thought of being seen in public with Richie is _exciting_. 

That definitely kicks up his heartbeat. It fucking flutters. Like a butterfly. 

Richie groans deeply and wires his fingers into his already messy strands of hair.

Okay. Okay. He should go. He should do this because otherwise the idea will run around rampant and fester until Richie breaks. 

But first; operation: An Official Excuse. Because, there has to be a reason why he shows up, right? Otherwise, he’ll look like a deprived man in love—which is totally not the case except for the fact that it's sort of true because he _is_ deprived. Their levels of codependency are sky high! And. Well. It can’t be helped. 

And he _wants_ and _yearns_ to see Eddie Kaspbrak in all his glory. In his Zone. Richie’s blushing at the image already. All studious and smart, professional-looking and bossy—and _God_ Richie loves it when he’s bossy. So. He sprints into the kitchen and prepares a sandwich so fast he doesn’t bother cleaning up after, despite knowing that Eddie Kaspbrak will Not Like That. No, indeed. But seeing his face would be worth all the trouble. 

Which is how he finds himself in the building lobby an hour later, staring at the receptionist with a wide grin that probably appeared maniacal. Except the man paid no mind to the serial-killer-like smile and simply returned it to say:

“Ah, Richie Tozier.”

He blinks back in surprise. Richie’s well-known at this point but as much as he may not be used to his fame status, it’s the familiarity in his tone which throws him off. Like seeing a distant aunt you met once years ago and they ask you, _remember me?_ , and you have to reply, _yes, of course_ , because it’s the way life works. But Richie’s more than definite on the fact that he’s never seen this man in his life. Until he goes:

“Mr. Kaspbrak speaks so fondly of you, so it’s a great delight to finally meet you in person. Would you like me to buzz you up?” His finger rests at a button.

Richie nods, insides mushy as the words _Mr. Kaspbrak_ _speaks so fondly of you_ , races and races across his mind on a loop. 

Eddie speaks about him. 

So much as so that even the receptionist knows who he is.

What the fuck.

He sniffs, “Oh. Right. Yes.” 

“You know,” The man starts as Richie’s brain is scrambling for any solid thoughts. His expression turns reminiscent once he’s typed something on his little keyboard, “I’ve been wanting to meet you for ages. Mr. Kaspbrak tells me all about your advances in your career. Stand-up’s doing well, eh? Nice work! I personally love the one about the pickles.”

“The pickles.” Richie stammers, “Thank you. Good taste.” 

“I like to think so!” He replies kindly and leads him to the elevator, “I have to tell you, Mr. Kaspbrak will be so delighted to see you visit.”

The water-works prick at his eyes again so he does what does best: indirectly degrade himself. “Who wouldn’t wanna see this handsome face, am I right?” Richie gestures a finger wildly at himself. This earns him a laugh and a once-over. 

Which. Which is something. 

“Absolutely!” The elevator door pings open and he clasps his hands together at the front, “Third floor, go straight until you reach the other end.” He guides him inside the compartment, “Mr. Kaspbrak’s office will have his name written on there.”

“Got it, thank you.” Richie shakes out of his trance-like daze, mind still a few steps back. He’s not exactly sure why he feels as if he’s in a pants-down situation.

He wonders if he’s such a common topic then why is it not vice versa and why hasn’t Eddie spoken more about how he _does_ go around doing exactly that?

It’s not as if Eddie is tight-lipped about his co-workers. Richie knows surface-level information about a few of them, the general consensus being that Eddie adores working here with them. He adores the life he’s built and the acquaintances he’s made in the past year. Just last week Eddie had said _Thalia_ _from work had her baby yesterday. We should buy her a gift_ , and a few weeks ago he mentioned _Liam bought me auto-racing tickets. We should treat him to lunch._

He wonders if Eddie looks and sounds the same when he speaks about Richie. Does he get that spark in his eye—because Richie falls head over heels in love with that passionate streak when he’s swiping his hand in all directions. _That’s_ his Eddie _,_ through and through.

The elevator dings once again and Richie steps out, one leg first then the upper half in a similar impersonation of Jim Carrey’s The Mask. Unsurprisingly, the layout is just as neat with cubicles lined up horizontally, big open windows to allow an abundance of sunlight in. The sound of the keyboard clicking and low chatter spreads the vicinity but the area is fairly empty—which could be because it’s noon. 

“Hello, can I help you?”

Standing politely in front of Richie is a woman with light curly hair like a mane outlining her round face, wearing a pantsuit and a tag that hangs from around her neck and down to her chest. It reads _Lavender Riccio._

Richie’s barely opened his mouth to speak when a look of recognition flashes and she loosens up her shoulders, “Oh! You’re Richie Tozier! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize at first—are you looking for Mr. Kaspbrak? He's not in his office, he's in the break room at the moment.” 

Lavender sucks in a gulp of breath and Richie is very glad she did considering she practically exhaled all of what she said and he’s left gobsmacked. _Again._

Warm and thick like syrup, his throat locks up, chalked with emotion. He pretends he isn’t about to collapse onto the floor and weep at her feet when he says, “Oh, yes. Could you? I made him a sandwich.”

Lavender flattens a palm to her chest, “That’s adorable.” 

“I like to keep my man healthy.” He says automatically.

“I know what you mean!” She bursts into life, startling him just a smidge, “I have this strange compulsion to feed my girlfriend every couple of hours.”

Despite himself, Richie laughs, easily delving into this camaraderie he’s landed in. “ _Yeah!_ Food is so intimate, don’t you think?” 

She laughs, “Oh, you won’t find any argument from me, trust me on that.”

“Right.” Richie nods, “Eddie never tries to tease me about it. He’s the best.”

“Funny,” Lavender’s got a twinkle in her eye, “He said the exact same thing about you just yesterday.” She points into what seems is a break room where Richie can hear the sound of laughter and the unmistakable voice of none other than Eddie Kaspbrak. 

Richie hadn’t a clue what he’d be walking into but he couldn’t have predicted the scene displayed in front of him even in his wildest dreams. Eddie’s voice alone has his pulse quicken rabbit-fast from anticipation.

“..Then I said, ‘Hey now! Tie those shoelaces next time, huh?’” 

A crowd of people burst into laughter, each holding their own steaming cups of coffee, top buttons of their shirts undone and loose ties draped around their necks. The mini fan-club Eddie harbors absolutely goes wild, and Eddie? Eddie’s a fucking riot! Leaning all cool on the counter in the same less-than-formal attire, his suit-jacket draped over a chair, sunglasses pushed up against a couple of gray strands, and—he looks so fucking gorgeous Richie’s face burns up. 

He nibbles on his lower lip as he notices the admiration written on everyone’s foreheads in big, bold letters. Eddie grins in that secretive way of his—as if he’s aware of how he has them in the palm of his hand. 

A sudden emotion suffocates Richie’s throat and he can’t help but land his gaze towards the empty bit of skin on Eddie’s finger Richie so desperately wants to cover with a ring. The feeling itself envelopes his tongue and the words _let’s get married_ almost fly out of his mouth.

Richie’s brain catches up when he realizes Eddie’s found him, eyes locked and staring into his own. He freezes for a split second before those big brown eyes melt into a pool of affection, all lit up. 

And as if Eddie’s suddenly possessed by some former football star who peaked in high school, he gesticulates in Richie’s direction and says, “Hey, sweet thing!—Guys, my man is here.” Excitedly, he draws all attention towards _his man_ —gah—and Richie has to blush to the tip of his ears. 

During the enthusiastic babble from Eddie’s coworkers, plus the happy claps on his back, Richie is waved over, and all he can do is abide so he pads across the room and closes the distance between them. Eddie’s arm slings tight across his back, hand stilled at Richie’s abdomen where the organs below his skin _shake_. 

“Everyone, this is the love of my life, Richie. Richie, these are the assholes I work with,” He throws an extra wink their way and they all just eat it up with thigh slaps and exclaims like _you josher!_

Eddie turns to him then as his faded cologne, spicy and fresh, wafts up and securely wraps him into a hug that feels like home. He’s sporting a sheen of sweat on his T-zones and has got some lightly damped armpit stains. A common effect of the seasonal shift to a Chicago summer, if you will.

He sees Eddie pucker up, head tilted back as a signal for a kiss. Richie’s practically in auto-pilot mode right now so he ignores the wave of sap threatening to split his body in half and simply lowers down to meet his soft lips. 

Eddie kisses him square on the mouth—with enough pressure for Richie to taste the cocoa butter chapstick transferred from his lips and the mintiness of green tea. Richie gasps out a tiny breath in the period before Eddie slots against him again, causing his mind to spin and deepen their kiss. He’s faintly aware of the hoots and hollers around them but he can’t focus when Eddie Kaspbrak is kissing him like they’re in the privacy of their bedroom right before they make love. 

Those familiar fingers spread along his cheeks and Richie nuzzles into the touch, overcome with yearning. Oh, God. Richie wants to marry _the shit_ out of Eddie. 

Still feeling as if he’s waltzed into the middle of a hallmark movie, Richie blinks out of his dreamy stance, flushed and thrumming with happiness. Inside his chest, his heart beats as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.

“Giving them a show, eh?” Richie teases alongside a jab to his chest. 

Eddie curls his lip into a fond smile and does a one-shoulder shrug, “Two birds, one stone.”

“Don’t let Stan hear you say that.” He pretends to kiss his cheek but he whispers instead with a malicious smirk, “Attention whore.”

A huff of a small laugh is all he receives, “We’re going to my office.” Eddie informs the rest, ignoring all the side-eyes when they walk out.

Richie brushes his hand up Eddie’s spine, up and up into his hair where the sunglasses lie. They’re an old pair they’d bought at the airport for a flight from Derry to New York. When the need to blend in was crucial. When Eddie had first kissed him and Richie’s whole life spun.

He plucks them off and uses them to mimic heart eyes popping in and out. 

“This look doing it for ya?” There’s a crooked smile that reveals perfect canine teeth. 

“Oh, yeah.” Richie hands them back as he leans in, “I should visit more often.” 

He glances at him, “You should.” Eddie licks his lips and Richie nearly trips in thin air. 

He flattens a palm on a door to push it open and they enter a cozy office room with a floor to ceiling window and a bookshelf that covers most of the wall. Papers are scattered on the table and Eddie sinks into his chair. It gives out a squeak of protest but he doesn’t give it a thought as he scoots himself closer to where Richie leans against the edge of the desk. 

Richie folds his arms across his chest, stomach in knots from the way Eddie’s eyes track the movement. 

“Wow. You are literally man-spreading right now.”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow and looks down at his crotch, “I’m not—”

“Okay, Edward Cole. I don’t need you to man-splain either.”

He purses his lips fondly and shakes his head, “Asshole.”

“I think I’d rather go by Richie Tozier-Kaspbrak, actually,” Richie props his palms on the surface of the table. 

“Came out all the way here to propose?” He rolls in even closer, a soft smile radiant and lively to contrast the sharpness of his features. 

“Came here to give you an extra sandwich I made.” He hands him the paper bag scribbled with _Eddie, my love._

Eddie brings the food container out and promptly chuckles after reading the sticky note. He points to it, “‘The only thing I want to be sandwiched between is you and the bed’? Definitely seen that one before.”

Richie intertwines their fingers, “I’m dropping hints about how much I want you to rail me.”

Eddie kisses the back of Richie’s hand all while maintaining eye contact. “You literally just told me you want me to rail you.”

“Well, then are you or are you not going to?”

“Let’s find out tonight.” He pats his hand and says in the next beat, “I missed you.”

A breathless _oh_ almost slips out. His throat tightens and his voice cracks, “I missed _you_.”

There’s that same knowing glint in those doe eyes. “I got a promotion today,” Eddie says, lips tucked inside his mouth.

Richie’s eyes widen, “Holy shit—now I _have_ to give you a blowjob!”

“Oh, so it's a ‘you feed me, I feed you situation’?” 

Richie laughs, suddenly sweating, “That’s a good one.” He swallows thickly into the tension. “So.”

“So…” He raises his eyebrows.

“What the fuck, man! Promotion?” He exclaims and Eddie ducks his head, bashful. Richie wants to scoop him up but instead, he curls up in Eddie’s lap, his arms around his neck while Eddie tucks him in with his hand on his thigh. “I’m proud of you. They all seem to like you very much. I’m almost worried they might snatch you away from me.” 

“Never.” Eddie says grimly, but then as an exhale: “They do like me, don’t they? It’s funny. I was too reserved to be likable. Before.”

Richie nods, thumb circling under Eddie’s ear. “I like that they see what I see.” He hears a small hum and Riche pauses in nonchalance, “I like _them_ too….”

“Of course you do.” An eye-roll. “You like everyone.”

“Not _everyone._ ” Richie bemoans, reaching for the sandwich. “But.” 

“But?” Eddie smirks while he splits the sandwich in half with his fingers.

“The receptionist says you’re always talking about me. So does Lavender—I get the impression _everyone_ here can say the same.”

Eddie doesn’t pause nor even behaves as if it’s a big deal. “Eat.” He offers the other half and Richie nearly blacks out. 

Shakily, he takes it, about to lose his goddamn nerve, unlike Eddie who bites into his half and emits a sharp sound of approval. 

Richie nearly sobs. 

Chewing slowly, he says, “Last time I checked, it’s not a crime to talk about how much I love my boyfriend. I talk about you to everyone. Half of Chicago probably knows about you by now.”

This time, Richie chokes on his bite as it catches in his throat. He swallows roughly and coughs, tears springing, “W-what?” 

Eddie whips a water bottle out from practically his ass, “Here.” 

“I’m good.” Richie dismisses and clears his throat, “What do you mean _all of Chicago knows by now?_ ” He demands, blinking furiously.

He sighs and wipes the crumbs around his mouth in a manner alike to Stan’s meticulous habits. “I walk here every day. To and from.” He motions in the air with his spare hand, “The homeless guy who lives down the block, the florist up at 16th...the kid who crosses the street over to get to school…” Eddie resumes eating as Richie gapes.

He breathes out, at his very limit and legitimately lightheaded. “Eds, I…” A flood threatens to break the dam behind his eyes, “I don’t know what to say.”

Compassionate as ever, Eddie smiles in that exasperated way of his. That expression is similar to the ones he receives when he’s being goofy on purpose. It always gets a bit under Eddie’s skin if Richie plays it for too long, but Eddie isn’t one to ever be angry with him either. 

“You’re so open. No one’s ever been like that.” Richie looks down as he says this.

Eddie sighs. A beat later he’s curled a finger below Richie’s chin and he forces him to meet his gaze—a gaze brimming with one emotion: love. 

“Rich,” Funny how his name never used to sound like a term of endearment before Eddie. “You’re _meant_ to be shown off. And you’re like...literally my favorite person—You _are_ my favorite topic to talk about.”

“Is this like me with the stand-up?” Richie says through wobbly lips.

“Exactly like your stand-up.” He says softly.

“Oh.” He blinks away, buzzing and buzzing. “You can be so…” Richie pauses to rest his head on Eddie’s shoulder, thumb loosely fiddling with his tie, “...sweet.”

“I can be,” Eddie replies tightly like he’s embarrassed but doesn’t want to give the wrong impression either.

This allows some balance of equal ground and Richie grins, “A big-hearted man deserves a big, sloppy kiss.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Mhm. It’s the law. Right under section sixty-nine—” Eddie grunts into his mouth, cheeks stretched back.

Richie smiles wider once Eddie presses his lips onto his, slow and laced with fatigue. Love between them isn’t rushed, it’s savored. And Eddie sighs in content, all muffled to be locked inside Richie’s rib cage where his heart thunders. 

“Okay, you should go before I _devour_ you whole,” Eddie adds. But he kisses him again as he says this. And again. And again. 

“You aren’t driving a hard bargain, Mr. Kaspbrak.”

Eddie’s groan vibrates out of him. “ _Fuck_.” 

He giggles. “That’s Not Safe for Work.”

“I could think of a thousand things that aren’t safe for work right now.” 

“I bet, ex risk analyst.” 

“ _Ugh_ , don’t remind me.” 

Richie bites his lip and hops off Eddie’s lap, “As much as I loved this little visit,” Bending down, he grasps both of his cheeks, “You just got a promotion. And me showing up to steal your attention isn’t doing anyone any favors.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Eddie murmurs all the while he hooks his middle finger into the loop of Richie’s belt to tug him closer. “They adore you. Everyone does.”

“Well, then invite them over. Let me show them a _real_ good time.”

“That’s quite a lot of people.” He says and Richie can barely render any thoughts with his hand placed where it is. 

“But it is a pretty big house.” He points out, “We can make it a game night.” 

“Oh, now we’re talking,” Eddie says, causing Richie to snort and roll his eyes at the predictability of it all. “We are going to absolutely abolish them at charades.” He affirms.

“Deal.” And he kisses him to seal it.

“Mmm. Deal.” Eddie approves, lining up once again.

They part at the office door after a few more kisses because it’s impossible to stop once they’ve started. Eddie leans on the side of it to watch Richie leave while the two of them pretend half the office wasn’t just standing idle with their ears pressed to the door a couple of minutes ago.

“See ya later, alligator!” Richie tips his head and winks before the elevator doors open. Eddie wants a show, he’ll give him a show. In fact, he’ll even blow him a kiss, and Richie most definitely does.

“After a while, crocodile!” Eddie responds right away, fist at his chest, at his scar as he pretends to catch it.

The last thing he sees just as the doors close is Eddie grinning as he flings two middle fingers in his direction. Richie laughs to himself and shakes his head.

Eddie and him were two sides of the same coin: Assholes who are terribly in love with each other. Sometimes he wonders how the Losers are ever able to endure it all since they’re around to witness the bulk of it even though he does suppose it’s not difficult to be overtly obnoxious when they’re _all_ overtly obnoxious. That’s what makes them, _them.  
_

They all fit, just like Eddie and him do. He knew this at the age of five and he knows this now at the age of forty. And when he steps out of the building after bidding the receptionist goodbye, Richie swipes down to find Went’s contact and presses _call._

The first step to a wedding is a ring, isn’t it?

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed <3
> 
> I'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/apple_solutely) if that's your thing!!


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